


Truth and Love

by borislegasov



Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: Fluff, Honesty, M/M, Mentions of Smut, Oneshot, gentle boris, nervous valery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:22:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26105659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borislegasov/pseuds/borislegasov
Summary: Boris admits something to Valery, and in turn, Valery tells him his own truth...Rated Mature due to the mention of smut and some swearing; so do with that what you will. I felt it better to be safe than sorry!
Relationships: Valery Legasov & Boris Shcherbina, Valery Legasov/Boris Shcherbina
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	Truth and Love

**Author's Note:**

> This was a oneshot I suddenly had the idea for and just had to blurt it out. I hope it melts your heart upon reading it the same way it melted mine whilst writing. Big love! <3

Valery awoke to a distinct pressure against his head. Not unpleasant, but present even in his sleepy state. It was pressing down on his scalp in a soothing, comforting manner, making his body ease and relax with every passing second. The warmth spread across the surface of his head which caused his body to hum with pleasure. Though not completely awake yet, he was acutely aware of the movement of what he presumed to be a hand atop his head. He vividly recalled the night previous: bodies entangling, lips colliding, hands roaming, moans slipping through parted lips… Their entire beings had been absorbed by the overwhelming hunger they both felt and couldn’t suppress. Neither could get enough of the other, and each had spent the entire night wondering what they had done right in life to deserve such a night. 

The night had been the most earth shattering night Valery had ever experienced thanks to the man he shared it with. It had been many years since he had been with another person intimately; to the point whereby he genuinely believed he would die alone without having felt true passionate pleasure. But last night had obliterated that worry and smashed it to smithereens and replaced it with contentedness, comfort and even more arousal. 

Valery sighed lightly, allowing Boris to recognise that he was now completely awake and cognitive (though the pleasure coming from the simple head touches were enough to make his cognitive abilities crumble). He took a deep breath inward and then arched his back against the mattress which gave way beneath him, allowing him to revel in his stretch. He grunted with an exhale once done, satisfied by the movements. He realised, with much joy, that Boris hadn’t removed his hand from his head, and melted into the touch once more, lounging languidly in total relaxation. Having his hair stroked was something he had never taken much stall to. Though he found running his own hand through his hair relaxing when stressed, he hadn’t considered how pleasing it would feel to have another person do it. He found tiredness washing over him, but didn’t submit to it - he wanted to bid his lover a good morning and to see the beautiful, handsome face and his hair still heavily mussed from sleep. He opened his eyes and immediately looked to Boris who was, as suspected, still dishevelled from sleep (and the nights’ other activities), and looking as handsome as all hell. He was delectable, and Valery took it as a personal triumph - and an immense honour - that he got to wake up in his arms. 

“Borja…” he grumbled, his voice gravelly with sleep. “What are you doing?”

He took another moment to appreciate the beauty of Boris: his soft laughter lines on the outer corner of his eyes, the gentle forehead wrinkles, the barely there frown line right above his nose… The peppering grey of the stubble that dusted his cheek, his sparkling eyes which watched him with great intent, his lips which brought back a plethora of memories, and his defined jawline which he had to actively resist the urge to reach forward and pepper kisses along the length of it.

“I’m stroking your hair, Valera,” Boris replied matter-of-factly, flashing him a cheeky smile. He weakened at the sight of the smile, his body reacting intensely and with vigor. 

Valery immediately laughed in response, shaking his head slightly in a mock exasperated manner. This man was completely insufferable and he could never get a straight answer out of him; but he loved him just the way he was. He also couldn’t find it in him to argue with such a response - it was, he supposed, entirely correct. He just wanted to know why. But he knew that Boris would simply say ‘because I wanted to. Aren’t I allowed?’ and the subject would be nullified and the two would just cackle for a while. He rarely could get Boris to explain why he was doing something - if Boris did something, it was purely because he wanted to. Plain and simple, no more to it. So he reasoned that he would simply enjoy it and no longer question him.

Boris continued his ministrations upon his head, softly massaging the spots seldom reached by his own hand when attempting to nurse away a wretched headache. The touches were divinely tender with an underlying passion that bloomed from Boris’ palm.

Moments passed, but the touches upon his head didn’t cease. With every passing movement, he found himself submitting further and further to the pleasure brimming within him. His body was stirring, winding him up and beginning to yearn. He was moments away from beginning Boris for his touch elsewhere, but was beaten to speaking by the man in question.

“Are you still wondering why, Valera?” Boris asked softly, tilting his head whilst flashing him a sweet doting smile. His eyes seemed to soften simultaneously, gazing at him as if he were the beauty behind a summer sunset. 

The way Boris looked at him was his complete undoing. He gazed at him with a longing he had never imagined would be directed at him, and he could swear he was able to detect something deeper in his eyes. Something that, when considered, made his heart race with hope. The way he smiled at him so softly melted his very existence into a proverbial puddle and made him wish he had the inner strength to admit his deepest feelings. 

“I am still wondering, I must admit…” he admitted somewhat sheepishly, averting his gaze momentarily. “Though I wouldn’t take it as a complaint if I were you. I feel like I’ve fallen into a pit of bliss…” 

In response, Boris anchored his fingers deeper into the delicate lengths of his hair, curling the ends of his hair around the tips of his fingers. His scalp prickled with the action, causing a shiver to ripple down his spine so intensely that he bucked up against Boris, their thighs colliding in the moment of movement. Both men gave a satisfied hum in response, both of their bodies responding eagerly and warmly to the touch. He released the hair and spread his fingers out once more, brushing them through his hair from front to back, ruffling it. 

“I love the feel of your hair beneath my fingers,” he said softly, the words barely a whisper. “I like feeling the softness. I also know you like it, Valera, and whatever makes you feel good… Well, it makes me feel good.” Boris slowly slid his index finger along his hairline, fluffing up the hair there before tracing a swirling pattern through the lengths. 

The blush that followed his words spread across his cheeks like a wildfire, causing them to flame ferociously. The skin prickled with heat, as if suffering from a sunburn, which in turn caused his forehead to flush too. In fact, it felt like his entire body was alight. He looked away from Boris in that moment, fearing he was baring his soul to him and exposing every single vulnerability - as if he hadn’t done that the previous night. He felt overcome with happiness, and felt a comforting joy filling his heart as he repeated his words in his mind. Such a small gesture had provoked such a profound reaction and he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

Boris fell silent next to him, though he didn’t withdraw his contact. His fingers continued their gentle dance over his head, entangling in his hair, sometimes tugging upon the strands which only heightened his pleasure and enhanced every single one of his senses.

“Valera…” Boris whispered suddenly, almost sensually, causing Valery to melt even further into the mattress and thus deeper into bliss.

In response, Valery extended out a hand and placed it onto Boris’ thigh, his thumb instinctually moving back and forth against the soft skin. His long fingers curled slightly over the edge of the heavily muscled limb. Moments passed whilst their only contact remained physical before Boris spoke once more, his voice gritty yet remarkably soft. 

“Valera…” Boris repeated, his voice possessing a little more strength now. 

“Borja,” he replied gently, looking up at him with deep reverence, tenderness and sweetness.

Neither of the men knew that they were each feeling identically - both of their hearts were pounding, their bodies were in utter overdrive, their minds were racing and the deepest corners of their hearts were raging with desire; feelings that was mirrored in their bodies, which had now shuffled closer to one another. Boris had slid his hand to the back of Valery’s head, his fingers tangling into the longer fluffy hair; the hair that had often driven him to distraction as he watched him walk ahead of him. It was such a strange thing to stare at, he thought, but it captivated him entirely nonetheless. The thickness of it allowed his fingers ample room to enmesh, though his nails still grazed his scalp ever so gently which left both of their bodies pulsing. Their thoughts, though unknown to the other, were completely identical…

“Valera, I think… I think I need to say something,” Boris uttered with trepidation.

Valery immediately sprung into a panic, his breath quickening, his eyes flitting across Boris’ face in an attempt to determine what he was about to say. He took a deep breath inward and attempted to calm his demeanour. “Oh? What about?” 

Valery’s attempt to calm himself must have been in vain, however, as Boris moved his hand away from his hair and down to his chin, holding his chin between his thumb and forefinger and forcing him to lock eyes with him hoping to calm him. 

“Calm down, love. It’s nothing bad.” This eased his worries immediately and he relaxed into Boris’ touch once more, feeling more comfortable.

He continued with a view to putting Valery out of his misery as quickly as he could, his voice gentler than he’d ever heard it. It felt as if his voice were extending to wrap around him, caressing him with a loving touch. 

“Things have been… happening in my mind since I met you. I haven’t really been able to put a finger on them until now; haven’t been able to figure out what the feelings were or what they meant for us. Back then I thought them to be improper, inappropriate even. Or perhaps a symptom of stress. Hell, I even put it down to an effect of radiation sometimes. It didn’t make sense to me, and it didn’t seem to matter to me because I thought that there was no way on the earth that you might even come close to feeling the same way… But last night changed a lot of things for me, and- honestly I hope they changed things for you too, because otherwise I’m going to look like an idiot.” He babbled nonsensically towards the end of his speech, and honestly he’d been lost since Boris had implied that he had feelings for him. Was it an implication, or was he spelling it out for him?

Silence fell between the two. Boris’ chest heaved with his attempt at calming breaths, his pulse visible at the side of his neck, each pulse detectable by Valery’s eyes alone. He watched, enraptured, at the way he seemed to be coming undone under his own words. What did he need to say that had got him in such a tangle? He hadn’t seen him this way since he was first trying to grapple with the deeper workings of a nuclear reactor. In fact, on reflection, he seemed worse off now than he did then. He was always so composed, so clear-cut, but right now he seemed riddled with nerves and he just wanted to alleviate them in any way he could. 

“Borja, please,” he pleaded softly, averting his gaze back to his face and connecting their eyes once more with remarkable intensity. Moments seemed to pass in a rapid haze before Boris spoke once more.

“Valera… I love you,” he whispered matter-of-factly. All traces of the quivering timidness in his voice had vanished, replaced with a stony tone as if he had spent the last few seconds preparing himself for the worst. He knew it wasn’t easy for Boris, an ex-military man, to bare his soul to him like this, yet he could easily see straight through it. He felt frightened, scared, with a hint of excitement thrown in for good measure. He knew him well enough to see that.

His entire body was buzzing with excitement at the revelation, the admission repeating itself in his mind, faster each time it whirred back around. His ears whooshed with the sound of his racing pulse. He did the only thing he could muster: he leaned towards Boris swiftly, claiming his lips in a powerful and intense kiss. His lips enveloped his lovers’ with determination, his head tilting to give him better leeway into a deeper kiss; wherein their lips parted simultaneously, their tongues nudging one another. He turned his body towards him, pressing his chest flat against Boris’, who wrapped his arms around him in an embrace so tight it almost took his breath way. He was holding him extremely firmly; as if his life depended on it; and in that moment they were kissing that way too. Their lips moved against one anothers’ with a deep rooted hunger, driven solely by the love they both felt for one another and an eagerness to encompass the other. He placed his own hands against the rippled muscles of Boris’ back, desperately clutching at them in any way to get him closer. 

They eventually (with extreme reluctance) pulled away from the kiss, but Valery tilted his head to allow him to rest their foreheads together with tenderness. He didn’t want to break contact with his love, but he knew he needed to respond to his words verbally rather than with his actions. His eyes closed, lips parted, breath heaving. 

“I love you too, Borja. I love you.” 

It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and this only amplified when Boris cracked the biggest smile he had ever been graced with seeing. He wasted no time in kissing him again, more ferociously now and with an urgency that was reminiscent of the night prior. Boris pushed Valery backwards and he obliged without a single beat of hesitation, submitting beneath him as his body gave in to the intoxication that came with having such a large, divine man above him.

The two spent the remainder of the day in bed together, talking, kissing, making love, fucking… Everything they had missed out on during their days of silencing their own feelings for each other. They did, after all, have lost time to make up for.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you're interested in a more smutty fic wherein I explore what happened the night before this fic is set... Hehehe.


End file.
